


Dragon's Blood

by K_Lionheart



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Heavy Petting, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, assassin!mikasa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:59:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Lionheart/pseuds/K_Lionheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only fools stroke the wrath of Dragons</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon's Blood

"Do it." 

It is a soft spoken command, curling against her ear provocatively like a lover’s whisper yet she can distinguish the menacing, poised dagger in the lilt of his tongue, a snake ready to bite into the soft skin of her exposed neck. 

She freezes instead, feeling the surprise of the unexpected order clench around her muscles and effectively trapping her. The knife in her hand stops its advance against the soft flesh of his throat. Dark eyes flick from the pair of lips that had uttered such a thinly veiled threat in husky tones to the pair of storm grey eyes staring at her with a disinterested boredom. Yet, like the words he had uttered, she could see a flash of bright excitement behind those steely eyes, just  _daring_ her to go through with her mission. 

A hand rose from his side to slide up her thigh, the thin material of her silk dress gently lifting off her skin the further his coarse palm ghosted over the smooth and sensitive flesh. A shiver runs its way up from where he touched her, following his slowly climbing hand and bursting into a series of fireworks under her skin the moment his hand felt its way up the apex of her bare hips. 

His eyes show no surprise, no emotion aside from the heated intensity bearing and piercing through hers, yet she could feel his fingers flick with surprise when he discovered she was bare under the dress. Bare and vulnerable. 

The fireworks end in molten sparks, feeding her fingers to move and she is pressing the blade of her knife harder against his throat. He is stone; completely stoic and unmovable despite the harsh silver anxious to bite into his skin and drink his cold blood. 

Yet his hands are hot against her skin and his stare is too heated, almost draconian and he exhales. The breath scalds her face, intoxicating her with the scent of sake and butterscotch and she could feel her mouth begin to water.

"Do it," he repeats. She does not look away from the battle raging in their gazes, but she can definitely hear the smirk lifting his lips, as if he held on to a secret she was not privy too. It was enough to confuse her, to enrage her.

"Eager to die, are we?" She hisses and his thumb is gently caressing the forbidden skin of her lower, _lower_ abdomen and her body begins to react to the touches. An amused snort filtered through his nostrils, like a dragon playing with his food. She wonders who was really hunting whom, in this moment. She may have been pressing death to his neck, but his eyes promised to  _devour_ her whole. 

"Ah, but Mikasa," He murmurs her name like the sweets she had indulged him just an hour prior. A part of her curses her own stupidity, while another is awed by the man she was sent to kill. He should still be sleeping, she gave him enough sake to knock out a bigger man. Yet he gazed into her eyes sharply, far too sharp for a man who was supposed to be inebriated. "Do you truly believe you are capable of doing just that?" 

"I’m capable of more than even you could— _Ah,_ " her words scatter into oblivion, an explosion of the senses nearly taking her breath along with her coherency. His hand had traveled further south as she spoke, smirk widening when discovering the peak of her sensitivity.  _That damn thumb of his…_ the thought came and went, fleeting like a feather cast in a whirlwind. 

"Than even I could…what?" his smirk is stained in taunts and dark amusement, storm grey eyes narrowing as he stared mercilessly into her soul. Clenching pearly white teeth, she pressed the blade tighter against his throat in retaliation. A bead of dark crimson breaks from his skin to run down his neck tantalizingly slow. Despite it all, his face shows no emotion aside from haunting delight. He flicks his thumb once more and her body gives a sharp spasm in reaction. 

"If you  _wanted_ to do it,” He continues, unperturbed by the blade pressing against his throat and the heat trickling down his palm. “You would’ve been out of this room by now, cleaning a bloodied blade rather than cleaning my musk off your skin.” Her eyes shut tight for a moment, biting down on her tongue to suppress a the whisper of a moan that was progressively getting harder to control. 

There is a sharp loathing stirring in the awe and admiration for this man, battling with the arousal of his teasing touches and the promise of so much more behind his feral, steel gaze. 

"I c-could still do it, you know," Her voice is wavering, her other hand clenching tightly on the silk pillow beneath his head. "I can rip out your throat just as easy as I had been able to slide sweets into your mouth." 

His hips buck beneath hers, a motion that was so slight, she might have imagined it. But there is a soft groan growing in the back of his mouth and the flickering of the flames in the fireplace expose the enlargement of his pupils, the growing flush of his cheeks. It was so easy, the knife was already in place, all she had to do was yank. Just one yank and his hand would fall from its place between her legs and his alluring breath would be silenced by the rush of blood that would stain the silk sheets of the expensive bed. 

"Then  _do it_ ,” he whispers again and his other hand emerges to grip on to the hesitant press of the knife against his throat. The lust hidden in his eyes is overwhelmed by a fierce violence, startling her enough to pull away for a fraction of a second. “ _End it._ Right here, and now,  _assassin._ " 

The word comes out as a hiss that sends her skin quivering with lethal anticipation, yet his thumb is rubbing languid circles against her and she is physically torn between giving in to the press of his hand that held her suddenly trembling hold on the blade and the tantalizing promise he beckoned between her legs. 

It had been such a simple assignment at first. Find the Captain, sway his favor for women with dark hair and pale skin and ensure he contracts no other courtesan, inebriate him, seduce him and when he is knocked out cold, kill the man with no last name and disappear into the night. 

The first three had been child’s play. The instant her eyes met his across the lobby of the extravagant whore house, she knew he was hers for the taking. She had cooed and sighed to his every glance and caress on her deceiving hands. That was until he began to speak, and the cold disinterest for his life suddenly faded to a genuine interest and fascination. 

He was no man. He was a giant. A titan.

His short stature and his youthful appearance were just that, simple appearances that disguised the attitude of a man who had grown surrounded in blood but felt no shame in sacrificing for the greater good. He was snark, he was foul mouthed but his eyes softened at the mention of his comrades and in a drunken confession, called them his family. She was drawn to him like a moth to a multicolored flame. Lost in the stories he told and taken by the way he didn’t force her on her back, but beckoned her to rest her head against his chest. But a mission is a mission, and so shoving her initial attraction aside had been a fairly simple thing to be done. She thought he had finally fallen asleep, but she was wrong. 

And now she was discovered and exposed to eyes that had once gazed off into the space around them in an alcoholic daze but now pierced into her soul with a keen force that would shatter the blade in her hand if it were possible. 

"What’s it going to be," He inquires, and she was faced with a choice he was all too ready to give. His life, or an eternity of burning.

"I…" She chokes out, unable to stop the strangled moan that erupted from her core when he slid down further,  _deeper._ Slowly lifting his body, he ignored the bite of the blade to inch closer to her, lips brushing hungrily against her gasping mouth, eyes never fading from their intensity, their heat. Like a hurricane of boiling water prepared to ravage her from the inside out. Could she actually tear her hand through and steal such rare intensity from those eyes? 

In a swift motion, Mikasa finds herself on her back, breathless and shocked as he stares down from above her. The legs that once straddled him, pinned him down, now hung in the air as he plunged his hand deeper, making her gasp and arch her back; the fireworks erupting like a bubbling volcano.

"Go on, then," He urges, dark hair falling over his eyes ( _those violently grey eyes_ ), pressing to his skin and hanging over his sharp cheekbones. She could taste the age in the chuckle of his chest, rumbling deep and filling her with unprecedented desire. His blood dripped softly against the skin of her blade wielding hand, scalding her. She knew she was going to be devoured, any moment now he would part those lips of his and swallow her whole. 

She had never wanted anything more in her life. 

His hand on her blade burdened grip shoves her weakening resolve with the same ease one would have for lifting a kitten, drowning her with the rhythmic caresses of the other. His eyes flashing with sick pleasure at her gasps and whimpering moans, her free hand reaching over to grip the chiseled and rapidly shifting arm. Nails biting through his shirt, teeth clenching and knife falling from her grasp to clatter softly on the expensive carpeted floor, Mikasa is unable to deny him any longer. The blade sings as it strikes the floor, announcing the shift of the tide and her surrender.

“ _Ah,_ Levi,” She begged, back arching as he leaned closer, his lips trail fire and flames over her jaw and exposed neck, searing his mark into her wanton skin. 

"My turn," He growled, low and deep, into her ear before ripping away the layer of silk off the exigent flesh of her body. Teeth biting into sensitive spots on her neck, harsher than knives and more pleasing than his caresses. With a cry, Mikasa is overcome, as this man, this  _dragon_  took her deep within his mouth, while  _everything_ burned. 


End file.
